How I Learned to Dance
by jumpingdowntherabbithole
Summary: Newt tells the (totally not love-) story of how he learned to dance. With some burly Asian guy who scares the living crap out of him. Who he will NOT fall in love with, because he's forever devoted to Thomas, genetic miracle and part-time friend. (Rated T for swearing)
1. Chapter 1

_I wonder if it's actually possible to die of embarrassment. I certainly feel like I might be dying, but then again, being held by arms like these tend to give one that feeling._

But wait.

Let's back up a little.

It started on Valentine's day. Well, no, that's probably giving you the wrong impression. It didn't start like that. It might end like that but that's definitely not how it started. Valentine's day also the start of the new term here at Glader High. Local public school and bullying extravaganza. Yeah, my school has a pretty bad rep. It's not wrong either. I'd testify to that. I'd be the first one. Maybe that's why they did it. To inspire some sensitivity into the neanderthals here. Because obviously if we can dance, we can also all hold each other's hands and sing Kumbaya.

So that's how it happened.

That's why at the start of term we were told, "hey you're all gonna become prima ballerinas".

Great.

So this is the story of how I learned to dance. No, this isn't going to be a love story. Okay well, maybe it will be. But not for a while. On the other end of it, I can sure say it could seem that way. But it's more the story of how I learned to be happy. How I learned to let go of my fears and make some friends. And yes, a little love along the way helped.

This is the story of how I learned to dance.


	2. Chapter 2

**Act 1, Scene 1**

_The stage is a decently sized gymnasium. Several visibly uncomfortable boys line the walls. One of them stands in the middle, happily chatting and smiling. His eyes sparkle, and he looks, as always, perfect. Wait, wait, back to the story. Sorry, but I was totally entranced with him at this point. Okay, enter awkward, small blond. Me._

So. Dancing. I wasn't quite sure how I felt about it. Everyone loves dancing. I mean, that's why parties are so popular. But dancing in front of other people? No. No way. Nope. Nuh -uh. On the other hand, this could be the chance I was waiting for. It's not like my crush on Thomas was a secret. Well, I mean, if anyone actually talked to me for more than two minutes, they might realize he was the only thing I could ever talk about. Or they might notice I had a playlist on my Ipod with his name on it. And it was full of cheesy love songs. But no one knew.

But hey, maybe this was my chance, right? Learning slow dancing in an all male gym class was the perfect opportunity to casually be in the arms of my one true love. I started to edge towards him slowly.

_Enter gaggle of giggling girls._

Oh, right. Forgot that we had to perpetuate the heteronormativity. Could I still ask him? A quick glance around the room told me that there were more guys than girls. That was a pretty good excuse. And the herd of dudebros that he was entertaining have started to wander away, trying not to be the guy without a partner. My legs were actually shaking at this point, and my heart was pounding. He turned and caught my gaze, making me nearly throw up my heart.

"Oh hey, Newt!"

_Quick bit of backstory: so Thomas was this new kid that came to Gladers' that everyone instantly loved. Including me. But in a different way. I showed him around a bit on the first day, before the dudebro herd swallowed him up and introduced him into their ranks. He's been friendly to me ever since. Not to mention smoking hot, and hilarious. Anyway..._

"Hey, Thomas,"

My thoughts were an incoherent garble along the lines of: OHGODSHUCKYOURETALKINGTOHIMgodheshotDONTMESSTHISUPhesmellskindagoodWHATDOISAY?

"So I was wondering... I mean do you- Maybe? But not if that would be weird. Is that weird? So do you - I mean I don't want to make you feel - so... you know?"

At this point I was wondering if I actually had asked him to be my partner. Also if just running away and pretending I never tried was an option.

He tilted his head.

I tried not to look too terrified.

"Are you asking me to be your partner?"

I might have nodded.

"Aw Newt, sorry, bro, but I'm with Theresa. Don't worry, I'm sure someone else will partner you, I mean I could see if - "

He keeps babbling on about how he could get one of Theresa's friends to be my partner but I'd tuned him out.

_I probably really should have been listening here._

Eventually, the dudebro herd swarms back over, a few girls in their midst, and sweeps him away again, and I'm left alone.

Alone.

Partnerless.

Heartbroken.

All around the room partnerships are forming. But I never considered who I would awkwardly ask to dance with me if my Thomas thing didn't work out.

The teacher gathers us up and asks who is such a loser that they have no friends they can partner. He might not have said that, but that's what I heard. There were two of us. So my new partner, after the teacher repeatedly assuring us that there was nothing wrong with dancing with someone of the same gender as yourself (yeah thanks), was some burly Asian guy who looked like he had never smiled before.

Definitely.

Not.

Thomas.


	3. Chapter 3

Act 1, Scene 2

_Now, so far, I've been trying to tell this story in a humourus light, so there are certain things I'm going to leave out. I don't particularly want to go into detail about some things in my past, so, if you feel there is some explanation missing, that's the reason. Which brings me to something I haven't yet mentioned: I have a limp. It's not like I hobble everywhere and look like some weird creep, I just lean slightly when I walk, am more clumsy than normal people, and apparently cannot dance on that leg. May I present Evidence A:_

It's remarkable how quickly my partner's face went from a glare to full-on worry and sympathy and back. It was faster than a blink, and maybe I imagined it as pain flashed through my eyes, but as I collapsed, I thought I saw a twitch of emotion in that stone face.

We were supposed to be doing some sort of spin or something. I wasn't sure because, you see, there was this rule in dance where the guy leads and the girl is a sort of prop that does nothing but stay balanced and look graceful, and guess who got to be the guy in my partnership? Surprise: it was the five-five blond kid who had a baby face and was slightly underweight. Just kidding. It was my partner. Whose name I should really learn...

So when my partner spun me with the force of a charging bull - I mean, how much does this guy work out? - on my bad leg, I just crumpled. Let me tell you, fainting is very romanticized in the movies. You don't wake up to the cheering crowd when they find out you're alive, in your crush's arms as he softly kisses you awake.

_That wasn't in a movie - that's just how I wanted this to go down._

No, I woke up in the hairy arms of my gym teacher, on the cold gym floor. Eww. At least Thomas was kneeling by my side, looking concerned.

"You okay, bro?"

I smiled, suavely.

"I'm fi-"

And then I almost threw up on him. Come on. I cannot catch a break.

The gym teacher put me down and stood up, probably to go yell at the class that was beginning to get a bit rowdy off to the side, where they were busy not caring that I might be dead.

"Get to the office, kid," the teacher ordered me before rushing off to where a fight was breaking out. Guess I can't blame him. If I'm not too injured, the most he can do for me is prevent other kids from being injured.

"Can you stand up? You fell pretty hard," Thomas asked, a cute little worry line appearing between his eyebrows.

"Yeah, I'm totally fine, don't worry about me, I'm a real trooper. I can handle th-"

Black spots appeared everywhere.

"Yeah, Newt, let's not try to sit up just yet."

"No, s'oka-"

"Bro, don't sit up. Seriously. You look like you're gonna pass out again."

"Fine."

He leaned in, and for a crazy second I thought he was gonna kiss me. He smelled really good too. Instead he put a hand under my back and one under my knees, and picked me up in one swoop.

"I gotcha, bro. Let's get to that office,"

He smelled really, really good.

"Mr. Thomas! We're starting again, get back here!"

And I had thought that my gym teacher really cared about my well-being for a second. But hey, at least he wasn't as bad as my history teacher. She's an ex-convict.

_I don't go to the most prestigious school, if you haven't gathered._

"Sir, I've got to take him to the office,"

"He can take himself!"

Thomas looked like he was about to yell back. My heart leapt: I was in his arms, he cared about me, and did I mention he smelled really, really, really good?

"I'll take him. He's my partner, so I'd be doing nothing anyway," if I was standing up, I would have jumped in fright. My partner's voice came from right behind us.

Thomas looked at the teacher. The teacher shrugged. Thomas looked at my partner. My partner opened his arms. Thomas looked at me. I gave him a calm grin.

_No, I didn't. I'm pretty sure I looked like a lamb about to handed over to a butcher. And not a cute one either. I mean the lamb. The butcher, although terrifying and weirdly good at dancing, was pretty cute. But he was no Thomas._

Thomas handed me over.

"Thanks, Min! Text me when you're feeling better, kay, Newt?"

And that's how I ended up being carried bridal style down the hallways of Glader High by a burly dancer who scared the living daylights out of me.

And he only smelled kind of good.


	4. Chapter 4

**Act 1, Scene 3**

"I told you, I'm fine!" I snap at the severely under qualified school nurse. I mean really, if all they train you to do at medical school is hurt children and ask them if you hurt them, I know quite a lot of people for the job. Of course it bloody hurts. What does she think? I collapse for fun?

_I'm pretty sure this nurse ends up getting fired for asking a kid to prove his nose was broken. To go into details, this kid may have started out with a really crooked nose that he was sensitive about and some rich lawyer parents._

The nurse scurries off: probably to get the highest quality medicine the school can afford - ice.

"Newt, she's just trying to help," Minho speaks up from the corner. He's been sitting there watching this whole time.

"Oh yeah? Why don't you sit here and I'll punch your leg for half an hour?" I wince again, and it breaks my tough guy face.

"How did you hurt it?"

"You were there, dumbass, you spun me and I fell,"

Minho brushes off the insult.

"I mean originally. Judging from the weakness in your leg, and the way you walk normally, you must have injured it a long time ago, and never let it heal properly,"

And here I was thinking this dude had the brains of a handkerchief. I cross my arms: what a show off.

"So how did you get it?" he prompts again.

"Maybe I broke it kicking nosy jerks like you,"

I see a brief smile flash over Minho's face and a small flare of anger courses through me. He thinks I'm small and weak. And I hate him for being right.

"Let me get one thing straight," I hiss, "I do not need your help. I do not want your help, and I'm not gonna accept your help. Okay?"

I stand up, trying my hardest not to let the pain show on my face. I can walk well enough, but it hurts. I limp slowly towards the door, expecting Minho to follow and try to pick me up or something equally as kindhearted but still humiliating. But he just sits and watches me leave.

I storm (well, I say storm, but it's mostly hobbling and looking angry) past the nurse, ignoring the ice she thrusts at me, and limping toward my locker. School's over. I had spent fourth period and more in the office, getting my leg prodded and I was fed up with it.

To my locker, and out the door, where I spend my last pocket change on a bus ticket, sighing at the fact that I wouldn't need to if not for my stupid leg. But I was already late for work.

It's not until halfway there when I realize I'm not spending the ride fantasizing about being with Thomas like usual. Instead I'm thinking of what snarky comeback I'm going to give Minho tomorrow when he gives me those "I don't want to hurt this small child" eyes.


	5. Chapter 5

**Act 1, Scene 4**

_The set is a dingy, grimy convenience store. The sort of place mostly found in horror movies, but was also happened to the only place I could find a job where I wouldn't run into anyone I might know from school. After some jerk-off decided to do some small-time burglary just because he saw the Anti-Jock behind the counter, and I was fired, I had to find somewhere more remote than a Starbucks._

Friday nights suck. Sure it was the pits to be stuck behind the dirty counter of a beat-up little shop, selling cigarettes to probable ex-cons, but knowing your peers were out partying as you did so made it worse. I was especially agonizing over the fact that Thomas was probably out with that girl, Theresa. I had nothing against her personally, but the rumors circulating around school suggested that she and Thomas were getting pretty close, so to me, she might as well have been murdering baby orphans in her spare time.

Seven on the dot, and the bell above the door rang. In came a scantily dressed brunette, as well as tonight's pick: a handsome redhead. The brunette, as I had lovingly nicknamed "The Seven-Eleven Siren" - both for my place of employment and the sounds I heard every week - was one of my biggest customers. I still couldn't figure out if she was a hooker, or just a sex addict, but each Friday night, she would bring in a different dude and spend quality time with him in the women's bathroom. I went back to my seat behind the counter and my math textbook which was spectacularly failing to hold my attention. I wished I had enough money for an Ipod so I wouldn't have to listen to the two going at it in the bathroom. It was a small store and had painfully good acoustics. I pulled the hood up on my sweatshirt and tried my hardest to focus on something else - anything else.

Gym class came to mind. After injuring my leg, Minho had treated me as if I was a delicate flower. I was extremely glad I hadn't told him about the original injury of my leg, lest the kid gloves get more padded. I had felt a strange urge to. Maybe it was because the guy had hardly uttered more words than our conversation in the nurse's office. Strong, silent types tended not to gossip, no matter how juicy the story was. As well as Min's new-found gentleness, Thomas had become more friendly towards me. I had actually texted him to say I was okay after the incident, in case he had been serious about that, and a whole text conversation had sprung up. It wasn't that he was being nicer towards me - because, there is no level nicer than Thomas - it was maybe just that we were getting to know each other better. We had had actual face-to-face conversations as well. It was awesome, but at the same time, it gave me hope that he might like me back, which was just cruel. It was sad that as soon as he turned a smiling face, I wondered if he could maybe be in love with me. On a deeper level, I knew he wasn't. He wasn't being flirtatious at all, it was just pathetic lil' old me and the little glimmer of hope in me that refused to ever die. Plus, it was nice to fantasize about us together, even if it would make the crash so much harder, when that fantasy was shattered to bits.

Man, I am a downer, I thought, rereading the same paragraph of the textbook that I had been for ten minutes. Alone, pathetic, and trying to block out the sad sound of bathroom sex. That was a pretty good summary of my life at this point.

**A/N - Hello, I'm back. It has been a while, so hopefully my style isn't drastically different. As always, it is the comments that keep me writing in this time of really just wanting to be a couch potato. I will try not to stop writing abruptly again, but no promises can be made. Just rest assured that someday, no matter how long it takes this story will finish. Again, you guys, girls, and anyone who doesn't fit that binary, are my motivation, so thanks!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Act 1 Scene 5**

_You know how sometimes you wake up and think this could be the greatest day of my life? Well, I'm the type of person to immediately follow that thought up with: if I don't fuck it up. _

_The scene is a small (and I mean small) bedroom. The walls are plastered with pictures, posters, writing, artwork, anything. There is a very obvious bed (not that beds are usually subtle), and a half-empty closet whose contents are scattered across the floor. A small desk is hidden in the corner, but the chair at this desk is the only actual seat in the room. Except the bed. _

_Enter two teenagers. One is simply perfect - dark hair and white teeth, eyes that melt the heart and adorable moles everywhere. He wears a blue shirt rolled up to his elbows and dark jeans. He is a genetic miracle. And then there's me. Small, scrawny, blond. Wearing an outfit that took almost an hour to pick out - t-shirt with jacket and jeans. I wasn't exactly proud of it taking an hour to put together, but it managed to not accentuate my diminutive size, so I picked it. Layers could maybe be mistaken for bulk. _

_So, here I was, Thomas' bedroom. _Bed_room._

Yes, Newt, there happens to be a bed, but you will not think about _that_, I told myself, sternly. My mind instantly conjured up pictures of Thomas gently pushing me against the wall and kissing me. No bed involved, it told me innocently.

"- Formula?" Thomas finished.

"What?" I asked, cheeks turning red.

"Don't worry, I barely understand math, either," he smiled. Jesus, I needed sunglasses just for those teeth.

Thomas jumped onto the bed, springs squeaking, and patted the covers beside him. I sat on it as if it was world's most fragile and expensive piece of modern art. _Tiny Nervous Gay Tries Not to Think About Bed_. That was an approximation of what I thought modern art was.

Thomas was lying on his stomach, chewing on the end of a pencil. I lay down next to him, trying to leave a heterosexual amount of space between us. The bed smelled like him. This was impossible. _Okay, Newt, let's just teach him math_. Math is painfully unsexy. I picked up my textbook. This was going to be a long evening.

Thirty minutes later, Thomas threw down his textbook.

"Ugh," he groaned, rolling onto his back. He was pressed up against me now, "I don't wanna study, let's do something fun,"

_Making out would be fun,_ said my subconscious. At some point in our study session, my subconscious had joined in our conversation. So far, it had turned pretty much everything into a dirty joke, and had used the phrase "that's what she said" more than enough times.

"Okay," I said simply, "What?"

"Dunno," he shrugged, making his shirt ride up, "Hey, pass me my phone,"

It was across him on the desk.

I leaned over him, sure this was some divine punishment. My chest hovered just above his as I stretched to reach his phone. I could feel him breathing below me. Trying to keep my face from turning red, I recoiled and handed the phone to him. He unlocked it and started tapping at it. I lay down next to him to be able to see what he was doing. He was opening some social media I didn't have.

Setting the phone down on his chest he said, "So how you liking gym class?"

"Aside from the fact the teacher keeps forgetting I'm not a girl?"

Thomas laughed. Our teacher had started out giving orders to "The Girls and Newt" but had decided that his brain couldn't handle that many syllables and had simply edited out the "Newt" part. Now I was one of "The Girls".

I got a warm, fuzzy feeling in my chest when I made Thomas laugh, so I kept going "And that my partner seems to be emotionally dead inside?"

He didn't laugh that time, but instead got a funny look on his face, "Yeah, how are you liking Minho?"

"Hard to tell when he says fewer words than I have fingers," I said, a shrug in my voice. Honestly, I was kinda fond of the guy. He occasionally popped out a hilarious one-liner. He had a policy that if you were going to use words, they had better be good ones.

Thomas held up his phone again. He had some kind of profile open on it: Minho's.

"He likes jogging and reading. Maybe you can talk to him about books?"

Neither of those things were written on the profile, but Minho was probably a friend of Thomas' - after all - who wasn't? The profile seemed to mostly contain pictures of Minho. There was an adorable one of him in a winter scarf, and a couple shirtless pics that made me seriously feel bad about my own body.

"Min also wants to be a doctor some day and -"

"Hold on," I said, sitting up, "Are you trying to set us up?"

Thomas sat up too, sighing, "Kind of,"

I flailed for a second trying to express myself solely through hand motions, until the stammering kicked in, "How did you - Do you know? What makes you think? But... I mean, what?"

He put a gentle hand on my shoulder, "Calm down, Newt,"

"Did you know I was gay this whole time?"

He looked slightly puzzled, "Yeah?"

"Oh,"

He put down the phone and was looking a bit worried that he had upset me.

"Sorry," he said, "I shouldn't meddle in your personal life,"

"No, that's fine," I said, still a bit shell-shocked.

"Well, Min has a girlfriend anyway," he said, as if he hasn't just flipped my mind upside down, "But she's kind of..."

I shook my head, trying to clear it. _It doesn't matter if he knows,_ I tell myself, _he's totally cool about it_. Besides, I hadn't really made an effort to hide any of it. My closet door was wide open, but no one had really cared enough to peek inside.

Thomas lowered his voice slightly, "A bitch,"

"Hmm?" I tried to rejoin the conversation.

"His girlfriend is a massive bitch to him," Thomas repeated, looking a little ashamed for swearing about someone. Adorable. "He's too good for her,"

He tapped through his phone again, and held up a picture. It's her.

"That's her, Ruth," He laughed a bit, "Not the name you'd expect,"

"Or the face," I said, paralysed.

It's not that she's attractive - she is. Or that she has a huge distinctive birthmark on her face - she doesn't. It's that it's _her_.

"Huh?" Thomas asked. He looked at the picture again, but failed to notice what I had.

_It's her. _Minho was dating the Seven-Eleven Siren.

**A/N ~ I guess somebody better tell him the t-Ruth about his girlfriend. Sorry, I had to use that pun somewhere. I will try to update more often, too. À la prochaine, mes amis.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Act 1 Scene 6**

"Newt? Newt!"

"Wha-?"

Thomas is staring at me, concerned.

"You mumbled siren or something, and then stared at my wall for almost two minutes now," he said.

"Oh," I continued to stare at the wall. Maybe there was a reasonable explanation. Maybe she was a very young looking hooker, and Minho knew about and supported her career. Maybe they had an open relationship. Or maybe Min's girlfriend was horribly and blatantly cheating on him. A small - well, okay, not that small - part of me wanted the last possibility to be true. Why? Maybe I was a sadist.

"She's cheating on him," I said, not bothering to try to put it gently.

"I knew it!" Thomas exclaimed, "Wait, but, how did you?"

"Pretty much every single week, she brings a dude to into the store where I work to bang,"

Thomas exhaled, his eyes wide, "That's rough,"

No kidding. The problem is: how were we supposed to tell Minho?

**End of Act 1**


	8. Chapter 8

**Act 2, Scene 1**

_My dance partner was being cheated on and my longtime crush was paying attention to me: life was good. Thomas and I needed a plan to prove to Minho that Ruth was blatantly cheating on him. We decided he should pay me a visit at my shift at work and see for himself. But, Houston, we had a problem. I couldn't exactly go from not saying a word to Minho to asking him to give up his Friday night to spend it with me at a dingy convenience store. _

"Turn, half-turn, dip!"

"So Minho," I tried to say as he turned, half-turned, and dipped me. I was trying not to let how out of breath I was show, but it was hard. I had no right to be, though. Minho was doing all the work.

Minho didn't answer. As per usual. But then I remembered what Thomas had told me after I had complained about Minho's speech patterns resembling those of a statue.

_"Quiet? Him?" Thomas had looked perplexed, "Nah, dude, he's probably just shy around you,"_

_"Shy?" I had scoffed, "I'm less intimidating than a kitten wearing a bloody flower crown,"_

"Okay! Break!" the teacher yelled, leaving the gym for a smoke. Not to brag, but Glader High was just classy like that.

"Yeah?" Minho asked, gently pulling me back to my feet. It was hard to fathom how he did anything gently when his biceps could smother someone. Not that I was staring at his biceps. Or the way they rippled as he picked up his water bottle,

"Well, I was wondering," I really hadn't thought this through, "If you wanted to hang out on Friday night?"

Minho took a sip from his water bottle and lowered it, a confused expression on his face, "Why?"

Ouch.

"Um, you can help me study?"

He thought for a second, "For what?"

"Erm... Math?"

"I may be Asian, but I'm terrible at math,"

"Oh, that's not what -" I was blushing.

"Newt,"

I looked up. He was smiling. Or he was in pain. I wasn't quite sure how a smile should look on this guy.

"Relax. I don't actually bite,"

Suddenly Minho became a lot less like a cold, intimidating, Greek sculpture, and more like a human.

"Alright, kids, stop flirting with your partners and practice Routine A! Now!"

We didn't exchange another word until the end of class. Minho picked up his water bottle and took a swig, while I panted like a dog and cursed myself for never working out. Minho hadn't even broken a sweat. I watched him walk away. Suddenly, he turned back.

"Five o'clock?"

I stuttered out something that sounded vaguely like "sure".

I wondered if Minho would blame me for what would happen on Friday night. I wondered if that would upset me.


	9. Chapter 9

**Act 2, Scene 2**

Wednesday passed without much of a fuss, Thursday seemed like it would be much the same, and that was where I made my mistake. In Glader High, you're either a popular douche, a pretty girl, or someone who should never let their guard down.

For the past couple days, I'd been trying to figure out where my life was, where it was going,_ and what the hell was wrong with me? _After months of pining and subtle stalking, I was finally friends with Thomas, and all of a sudden I didn't find him attractive anymore. Physically, who am I kidding? He was hotter than the literal embodiment of the sun, but no longer did I fantasize of skipping through a field of dandelions with him, holding hands - or a less PG version of that. Don't get me wrong, he was my best friend - but that seemed to be it. I felt free until I realized my stupid heart couldn't last so much as a week without having a crush, and of course, it always wanted the incredibly unattainable.

On top of all this bullshit, it was starting to look like I was going to fail math. All that fake studying hadn't paid off. It's not that I wasn't smart, I just didn't really understand the teacher's hangover-addled lessons or have the spare time to figure out exciting things like how to graph polynomials. I had to do something about this, though. I didn't really want to still be thirty and working at Seven-Eleven. I wondered if the Siren would still stop by with her husband or something equally as twisted and disturbing - but then thinking of her reminded me of Minho. It was like all the wires in my brain had been rerouted to there. Goddammit.

I was sitting outside the school, math textbook open and making no sense. I'd given up my lunch hour for this, and it wasn't getting me anywhere. Frustrated, I picked up the book, ready to throw it, but paused. Someone was standing above me. Shit.

I looked up. Gally.

_Stereotypical bully. Strong, ugly, and mean. I guess he wasn't as stupid as he could have been, but that didn't exactly comfort me. _

I stood, feeling pretty small. Some dudebros materialized and I was almost impressed with their stealth. Almost. I stepped to the left, and saw Gally's eyes shift with me. They weren't going to leave me alone. Shit.

"Alright, what do you want?" I asked, tone even.

"Simple," he replied, taking a step forward, "Your money,"

I actually laughed at that, "Really? You want my lunch money? Are you trying to become America's Next Top Bully?"

Suddenly Gally was right up in my face. My back was to the wall. He had one arm casually braced against the cold brick, cutting off my escape. Not that he really needed that - his minions would stop me long before I could get my sorry ass out of there.

"Hey," he said with a small smirk, "I don't believe in senseless violence,"

And suddenly he had a fistful of my shirt collar. Oh bother. I swallowed a retort that was something about him being senseless. It didn't matter. None of it did. Even if I forked over my entire savings - which didn't amount to much - I was in for a beating.

"Gally!" A voice of pure rage came from behind him, distracting the bully for just a moment. But a moment was all I needed. I wasn't a damsel in distress who waited for the prince to come and rescue me. I didn't care that I was small and weak, I just wanted Gally to feel every single punch that had ever landed on me.

The boy toppled backwards, and I fell with him, pulled by my collar. My vision went red as I started punching. It took a couple seconds before Gally was fighting back, and suddenly I felt helpless again. He rolled, and it was all I could do to defend myself, until strong hands dragged him off of me.

That's right. I couldn't do anything for myself. I was either going to be hurt or be saved by some benevolent force. And I hated it. I wanted to be able to protect myself. I wanted to fight back, no matter how much it was going to hurt. I lunged after Gally, but someone had my arms behind my back.

"Newt! Newt, stop!" It was Thomas, doing all he could to stop me from squirming out of his grip. Minho had a struggling Gally in a headlock and looked like he was barely restraining himself from snapping his neck.

"I can protect myself, Thomas! Let me go!" I tried to pull away again, but it was imposssible. I was weak. Suddenly, the pain kicked in and I hurt all over. But the worst was the feeling that I needed these two to help me. I felt a flare of hatred towards Thomas, and that's what finally made me stop struggling. I gave up, heart sinking with disappointment in myself. I felt so incredibly weak.

"Office! Now!"

That's when I realized what was wrong with this scene. Why hadn't the dudebros come to the aid of their leader to fight the two traitors? Sure enough, they were standing in a nervous circle around me, Thomas, Minho and Gally. And there was the teacher. Fan-fucking-tastic.

**A/N Good news - due to the release of The Scorch Trials I am re-obsessed and consequentially I will probably write more. Other good news - I was also rereading this fic and realized I have been spelling Teresa's name wrong - so I'll get around to fixing that. Cheers! **


	10. Chapter 10

**Act 2 Scene 3**

_You can really tell a lot about the quality of a school by the posters they have up in their office. Most schools have some cheerful motivational posters and a couple public service ads. We just have a whole bunch of 'Hugs not Drugs' posters plastered up, giving the impression that they are literally begging us to stop using drugs. That or they were the only free posters. Depressing._

My knee bounced impatiently, and it irritated me. I wished I could be like Minho - who hadn't so much as blinked for the past hour we'd been waiting. I hoped I didn't look nervous. Gally had been blatantly glaring at me, and I didn't want it to seem like he was getting to me. I crossed my legs and glanced back at the clock again. Barely any time had passed. To my left, Thomas was fidgeting madly. He was like some unstoppable force of positive energy that had been tied down in this dreary place.

"Newt, I -" he started for the millionth time, before being harshly shushed by the nameless office lady. They must have a factory for these women. They were all hopelessly out of style, mean as all hell, and had excellent hearing.

Thomas bit his lip and looked away in frustration, foot tapping erratically. I knew he was trying to apologize, but I didn't want to hear it.

Finally, the office door opened and the principal stepped out. He was dressed entirely in fabrics that at one point would have been white, and had a strange resemblance to a rat. Long ago, the entire student body had unanimously forgotten his name and taken to calling him The Rat Man. I had to give it to them, the nickname was quite an accurate descriptor.

"Come in," he said, as if we hadn't been wasting our entire afternoon waiting for him to call us in.

Thomas bounced up, eager to release some of his pent-up energy, and Minho slowly rose, face still stone. I followed quickly, not wanting to be beside Gally for any amount of time. The office was dingy at best and grimy at worst. There were chairs set out for us and we took them somberly.

"Boys," The Rat Man started, and I had to force myself to stop wondering at the weaseliness of his face and concentrate on his words, "Our school has no tolerance for physical violence and you must be punished."

_Fine by me_, I thought. Whatever they could throw at me wouldn't be as bad as the shame I felt not being able to stand up for myself.

"Detention for two weeks, starting today."

"Today?" I blurted out. All eyes jumped to me. I crossed my arms, "I have work,"

"That, sir, is your problem," Rat Man said, with a small smirk.

"Well how long do we have to stay?" Thomas asked.

"For today, until you all apologize to each other," he said.

What sort of bullshit logic was that? Were we toddlers again and "I'm sorry" was the magical phrase that could repair any broken friendship? Words were worthless.

"Sorry," I said, intoning as much sarcasm into the word as possible, "Can I leave now?"

The Rat Man steepled his fingers, and gestured to us with them, "Not until everyone apologizes,"

"Sorry, bro," Thomas said to Gally, looking genuinely sorry. They had been friends after all, "But if you're gonna hurt my friends, you can bet your ass I'm gonna hurt you,"

"Thanks," Gally said, smiling sarcastically, "Sorry to you too, Judas. And you, the big stupid knight in shining armor."

He turned to me, "And sorry to the poor widdle princess, who needs these big strong men to take care of his wimp ass,"

I took a breath, trying to swallow my anger. I calmly gave Gally the middle finger and some insight into the possible sexual relations between his mother and a hippopotamus. He smiled back at me and employed an impressive mixture of curses and slurs, some of which I hadn't even known existed.

We looked back at The Rat Man, who seemed satisfied enough with our apologies. After all, what did he care, if he could claim that he'd tried?

"And you?" he asked Minho.

I turned to him.

"No,"

It was just one word, but my heart sank. His stubbornness was going to keep us here all night. At the same time, though, I was flattered that this was so important to him. But mostly, I wished he'd just apologize. This wasn't a battle worth fighting.

"Alright," The Rat Man said, standing, "Let me know when you change your mind,"

He left the room and the door locked with a click behind him.

Shit. This was going to be a long day.


	11. Chapter 11

**Act 2 Scene 4**

_Wise men have long wondered if it possible to both love and hate a person. My answer is yes. Yes, it is._

"Minho," I said, breaking the long silence that had followed the clicking of the lock.

"Yes, Newt?" he replied, face blank.

"Can you please apologize so I don't get fired?"

"No," He said, turning away again. His gaze had started to bore a hole in a particularly uninteresting section of the ceiling.

"C'mon, Min," Thomas tried, "The sooner you say it, the sooner we can leave,"

Minho didn't even bother answering.

"Well, this is fucking stupid," Gally stated, reading our minds.

"We could tell Rat Man that he said it anyway," I suggested. The sooner I could left and forgot this ever happened, the better.

"No," Minho said.

"Is that all you can say?" I snapped. My nerves were getting frayed and his stone face fueled my anger further. "Really, is your ego so big that you think we care if you say sorry or not? None of us mean it, so suck it up and just fucking say it!"

Minho turned to me, and for a second I saw something burning in his eyes. I wondered if he was going to punch me.

"No," he said.

"Stop saying that!" I yelled. My patience had just about run out. Maybe they could afford to sit around here all day waiting for this idiot to apologize, but I didn't want to think of what would happen if I got fired. I'd been saving every penny I made to get out of this stupid little town - to just escape, and hell if I was going to let Minho's stubbornness keep me here. I started towards him, not quite sure of what I was going to do, but a hand grabbed my arm.

"Don't, Newt," Thomas said, holding me back.

"Easy for you to say!" I turned on him, "I-"

"Newt," he interrupted, the calm in his voice irritating me beyond belief.

I sat back down, glancing at the clock angrily. School was officially over now, and I was going to be late to my job if I even showed up.

"Why don't you listen to your little damsel in distress, Min?" Gally asked, his voice a mocking monotone.

I growled at him, "I'm not -"

Thomas gave me a look, and then turned to Gally, who was sat as far from us as possible while still being in the same room.

"Give it up, man, leave Newt alone," he said, "Seriously, we already know you're an asshole. You don't have to keep convincing us,"

"Fair enough," Gally conceded, "I'll leave him alone if you'll get me out of here in the next ten minutes,"

"Sure," Thomas said, but Gally wasn't done.

"If I have to stay here a second longer than that, I'm gonna make that little bitch's life hell," he nodded to me, "And you two won't always be there to protect him,"

"I don't need them to protect me, you bloody c-" Thomas cut me off. Again.

"Fine,"

I was about to give him hell for censoring me, but the poor boy looked troubled enough. He was, after all, trying to keep peace between two extremely angry teens, and one incredibly stubborn one. I decided to bite my tongue and hope he'd use his good old Thomas magic to get me out of here.

"Minho, why won't you apologize?" Thomas asked, "You don't have to mean it,"

Minho graced him with an answer, "I can't look in his ugly shuck face and say those words. It's impossible,"

"C'mon man, we all did it," Thomas said, then, lowering his voice as if telling some secret, "Do it for Newt,"

What was that supposed to mean? Did he mean do what any decent human being would do and not crush Newt's future in college, or did he mean do it so Gally won't pound Newt's face in the second you're out of sight? Why did "do it for Newt" had to be said in that tone?

"Alright, Minho," Thomas said, "I'm going to go get Rat Man and you're going to apologize to this ugly bastard. I don't care how much you bullshit it, all we need are those two syllables,"

He then strode over to the door and knocked on it. It was unlocked from outside and Thomas left to find the principal.

There was an awkward hush. I looked over at Minho to see him staring straight back at me.

"Please," I said, but my voice came out as an odd half-whisper, and he looked away. All of a sudden, I felt close to tears. I didn't want to admit it, but I was terrified that if I lost my job, I'd have to stay in this town forever. I did have dreams and plans, but I didn't exactly have the financial means to follow them unless I continued to work my ass off at this shitty job.

Thomas re-entered, the Rat Man in tow.

The principal nodded at Minho, "Do you have something you want to say to Gally?"

"Yes, " he replied, turning to Gally. I couldn't tell what he was about to say, but it didn't look like an apology, "You're a right bastard, and if you ever hurt someone I care about again, I will break every bone in your body - starting with your neck. You're absolutely despicable and bear a striking resemblance to the toad your mother screwed to produce you. So, in conclusion, fuck you."

There was a brief pause.

Minho spoke again, "And sorry, I guess."

**A/N I hope you all read my "rated T for swearing" warning before this :D.**


	12. Chapter 12

**Act 2, Intermission**

"Newt, wait,"

"What?"

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have been such a stubborn asshole,"

"Oh, so now you learn how to apologize,"

"..."

"Sorry,"

"Newt?"

"Yeah?"

"You okay?"

"I'm fine, Min, just fine,"


	13. Chapter 13

**Act 2, Scene 5**

I'd almost forgotten that I was going to ruin Minho's life tonight. Most of my thoughts last night had been wild revenge schemes to get back at Gally. Things that I fantasized about but would never actually be able to do. No one has that much free access to crocodiles. The thing that scared me, though, was when I thought back to how I attacked Gally. How I didn't care what happened to him. I had just wanted him to feel pain. Did that make me a bad person? Or does everyone have those moments where they stop worrying about the fact that it's an actual person they're hurting and instead just enjoy their power to do it? I'd been obsessing over this, but when I walked into gym and saw Minho's face I forgot all about it.

The thing with Ruth seemed so small to me right now, but I supposed it would be of much more importance to Minho. I realized I didn't want to hurt him, as much as I believed he should know the truth. He'd find out eventually some day, right? I didn't have to be the one to tell him, and watch his heart break. I felt a figurative chill wash over my feet.

"Hey, Minho? Ready to learn the feather step?" I tried to make small talk, but it seemed out of place. The two of us communicated mostly in eye rolls at the teacher's words, or winces when we stepped on each other's toes.

"Sure?" he said.

"Oh yeah, about studying for math tonight?" I prompted.

"Yeah, Thomas forwarded the details. I can't believe you work Friday nights!"

Damn it, Tommy. "Yeah, great,"

"I hope you understand trig better than I do,"

"Trust me, I don't,"

Minho's smile was the kind that made flowers bloom and baby kittens be born. It was a shame I rarely got to see it. Suddenly, I realized we were having an actual conversation. A friendly, normal, conversation. Huh. So how about that? I could get pretty used to this whole social interaction thing. Especially with Mnho. Wait, what?

Our conversation died down as we waltzed the period away. I kept catching Min smiling and my heart jumped as I realized how I would have to watch that smile shatter tonight. It was like we had just stepped onto some beautiful island, but I knew it was going to be burnt to the ground in a couple of hours. Did I enjoy the time I had left on it, or should I run away screaming so as not to get hurt? My mind and my heart were arguing and it was giving me a headache.


	14. Chapter 14

**Act 2, Scene 6**

All of a sudden, it was five o'clock and I was standing behind the dingy counter at the Seven Eleven. For a day that seemed to drag on forever, it seemed too sudden to be over. I tapped my fingers impatiently on the counter, then remembered what kind of establishment this was and shuddered at the kind of germs there could be there. I resorted to tapping my foot on the ground. I was trying to solve a math problem in the open textbook in front of me, but it was like trying to move sand with a fork. Every time I tried to concentrate, everything just slipped away again and I was back to staring at the door waiting for Minho. Jesus, Minho. I was about to ruin his relationship and break his heart. I hoped that breaking his heart wouldn't result in him breaking any of my bones. That was what I told myself, but really, I cared about how he'd feel. He could punch me a thousand times if it would make him feel okay, and I wouldn't mind. Wow, what a strange description of love.

The bell above the door rang, announcing Minho's presence. He blinked a couple times, taking in the shop. He had his hands shoved deep in the pockets of a red hoodie zipped halfway up. He was bright and beautiful and totally out of place in this dingy hellhole. I knew I wanted him, twice as much as I'd ever wanted Thomas, and I knew how cruel and terrible that thought was given the circumstances.

"Hey, Newt!" he called, walking over to the counter. My mouth was too dry to answer. He lifted the messenger bag from his shoulder and pulled out a notebook. We made brief eye contact, and I realized I was staring.

He tried again to start a conversation, "Love what you've done with the place,"

"Sorry," I replied automatically.

He raised his eyebrows.

"Our interior decorator is a colourblind hobo,"

He laughed and the tension was turned down a notch.

"Maths, then?" I suggested.

"Yeah, sure," he shrugged off his hoodie and grabbed a pencil from his bag, "Do you understand Cosine Law?"

"Nah, not really," I replied, "I can try to explain it though,"

I launched into an explanation full of shrugs and "maybe this, I think?"s, until I realized Minho wasn't paying attention to my sloppy diagram, but rather watching me speak.

I stopped, "What?"

"I just noticed your accent,"

"Oh,"

I'd thought that I'd lost my accent after practicing to get rid of it for so long. Anything that made you different fueled the fire for bullies.

"What?" Minho asks, noticing that I've turned away, "I think it's cute,"

_I love you and I think we should adopt children together "cute" or this nerd is tiny and squeaky "cute"? _I want to ask, but of course, I don't.

"Spot of tea, there, chap?" I tease, with a cheesy affectation.

He laughs, and my heart leaps at the sound.

_One hour 'til the end of the world._


	15. Chapter 15

**Act 2 Scene 6**

_Thirty minutes until the end of the world_

"Min, no," I sighed, "It's opposite over hypotenuse!"

He scratched out the offending problem in his notebook and looked up at me.

"For someone who's terrible at math, you're pretty good at math,"

I paused, chewing on the end of my pencil, "Thanks, I guess,"

_Fifteen minutes until the end of the world_

"Dog person or cat person?"

"I don't think I should have to choose,"

"Good call,"

_Ten minutes until the end of the world_

"Where'd you get your hoodie?"

"Hand-me-down. Nothing's new when you have two older brothers."

"I wouldn't know. Only child,"

"Lucky. No expectations that way,"

_Five minutes until the end of the world_

"That's the bathroom, right?" Minho asked.

"That's what the sign says," I shrugged, "I don't go in there, though,"

"Haunted?" he teased.

I laughed, "By the ghost of disgusting"

Minho stood, "I'll take my chances,"

I watched him hazily, until I remembered what time it was. Shit, what if he missed it?

"Wait!" I called.

He froze, one hand on the bathroom door.

"Are you sure? I mean... it's pretty nasty in there. They don't even make me clean it."

"I'll be fine, Newt," he replied, pushing the door open, "Your concern is touching, though,"

I checked my watch, panic rising inside. I hadn't really been prepared for this. I guess he would have to find out when Ruth was done her gallivanting in the bathroom, but it would be awfully awkward to explain that the girl he'd been hearing moan for the last half hour was his girlfriend. Maybe this was a sign that he didn't have to know. He'd gone this long with a cheating girlfriend and he seemed just fine.

The bell above the door chimed and I glanced at my watch. She was unusually early.

"Alright, hands up and I won't shoot your punk face off!"

That wasn't Ruth. I looked up, raising my hands instinctively. My heart clenched as I saw a gun pointed straight at it. The man wore a black ski mask and was built like a wrestler.

"Open the register and take out the fucking cash. One wrong move and you die."

I went to do just that, but hesitated. I was tired of being pushed around. My brain raced. Minho was in the bathroom, and Ruth and whatever guy she was having tonight would be here any minute. I slowly looked back to the man with the gun, hands halfway to the cash register, heart in my throat.

"Now!" the man shouted, but I noticed the tremble in his hand and the waver in his voice. Whatever money was in the register wasn't worth getting arrested for manslaughter. I knew it. He knew it.

I was so exhausted of just taking it. Tired of being weak and helpless. Was I an idiot for choosing this moment to stand up for myself? Maybe. Definitely. Was that going to stop me?

We made eye contact, and the man shook the gun at me again.

"Do it!" he roared. But was he really going to shoot me?

I called his bluff.

"No,"


	16. Chapter 16

**Act 2 Scene 7**

I was in the bathroom when it happened, which is a terrible start to any story. To tell the truth, I didn't really need to use it, but my nerves were out of hand, and I needed a minute. Newt had no idea the effect he had on me. When he was around, suddenly, my tongue was about as useless as rock and my palms started sweating like crazy. Yet he still had this "no one loves me and everyone is cooler than me" complex. It was aggravating and aggravatingly attractive.

I stared into the mirror and mussed up my hair, trying to make it look more badboy-ish. I adjusted my hoodie across my shoulders, wishing that I had dressed up more. Though for a study date in world's shabbiest convenience store, I didn't want to overdo it and seem like I was trying to impress him.

I considered splashing my face with water, but I didn't want to touch the tap. Newt hadn't been kidding about the state of this bathroom. The floor stuck to my shoes, the smell was unnerving, and the ceiling fan was almost deafening. I felt bad that he had to work here every day, just to afford to go to college, something my parents would pay for without a second thought. There wasn't much I could do about it though. If I tried, there was no way he'd just accept my money. I also felt bad about almost getting him fired a couple days ago. He needed this job, and I had worried more about my sense of pride than what I had stopped Gally for in the first place.

I wiped my hands on my jeans again. They were clammy. I cursed Thomas again.

_"C'mon Minho, he doesn't have a partner! If you won't do it for me, at least do it for him"_

_"Thomas, I've told you before, stop trying to set me up with people. I have a girlfriend!"_

_"Look at him! He's all alone!"_

_"Jesus, fine, Thomas. But stop meddling, I'm not going to fall in love because of some stupid dancing"_

_"..."_

_"Don't you dare wink at me, Thomas!"_

"Dammit, Thomas," I told the mirror. The boy in it stared back at me, and I looked away before I could psych myself out.

I cleared my throat, but I could barely hear it over the whine and whir of the ancient fan.

I did, however, hear the gunshot.


	17. Chapter 17

**Act 2 Intermission**

A young woman and man stumble giddily into the store, and the woman shrieks at what she sees. A man in black shoves them out of the way and takes off out the door, cursing under his breath. A boy bursts out of the bathroom and towards the counter, barely surprised when he recognizes the young woman at the door. The young woman's companion is crying into the phone. The nice lady on the other end of the line is telling him to keep calm, that the police are coming. Cars honk outside as they swerve around the man in black with the shaking hands, and a siren wails, warning the criminal of its approach.

And behind the counter of the store, lies a boy, bleeding. The boy from the bathroom cradles him and screams his name, but the bleeding boy is limp as a doll. His eyes flutter open and he watches the scene for a moment, but suddenly his eyelashes are too heavy and sleep seems so comforting. The other boy urges him to fight it, to stay awake, but he can't.

The city outside is oblivious to what is happening. A group of teens worry for a minute that the siren is for them, that their music is too loud again, but they turn it up in triumph when the noise passes by. An elderly woman grumbles as the wail registers in her age-impaired ears. A baby cries out at the noise.

And still the boy bleeds.


	18. Chapter 18

**Act 3 Scene 1**

I open my eyes and nothing registers but darkness. A distorted cry reaches my ears. Someone calling my name. I blink a couple times but still my vision is unclear. Then I feel a warmth on my lips. I smell fabric softener. I blink a few more times and the spots in my vision retreat a little. Is someone kissing me? The pressure on my lips disappears again and I hear someone speaking more clearly. I take a couple seconds to translate what I'm hearing into words.

"Newt, you're awake! Thank god!"

Okay that seems to make sense. Someone is coming into focus above me, as well as a throbbing in my head that's urging me to go back to sleep. My ears pick up something else.

"Newt, what the fuck were you thinking?"

Hey, person of mysterious origin, mind your manners. I struggle to remember what the fuck I was thinking. I remember studying with Minho. Did he beat me up after he found out? Did Ruth? Did her guy of the night?

I try to talk, but it comes out as a kind of gurgle. I cough and try again.

"What happened?" I sort of manage to ask. The face above me comes into focus much more clearly and it registers in my sore brain as Minho.

"You have a concussion," he replies.

"Why?" I ask, blinking in an effort to get rid of the last persistent dark spots. My mind still feels funny, and my tongue is quite numb.

"Because you're an idiot," he says.

"Sorry," I mumble.

"You got shot in the shoulder and hit your head on the way down,"

"Who would shoot me?" I ask, hurt. I thought I was a pretty nice guy.

"We don't know yet, but he's in police custody,"

"Huh," I can feel my mind powering down again, "Good that,"

"The doctors said you'll be fine. You can sleep now,"

"Wait," I mumble, "Did you kiss me?"

Minho chuckles, "Get some sleep, shuck-face,"

But I feel him squeeze my hand as I drift off again.

**A/N I wasn't going to update today, but you guys deserve it! Waking up to twenty new reviews on my story was the best feeling, so thanks a bunch, and enjoy!**


	19. Chapter 19

**Act 3 Scene 2**

I woke in a hospital bed. My head hurt and my left shoulder ached, but I felt in pretty good condition. Why was I in a hospital? Sometimes life was funny like that. You wake up one morning in your bed and the next in the hospital. I looked over at the clock at my bedside. It was pretty early in the morning. I hoped I hadn't slept through the weekend. I had a test on Monday that I needed to study for. But I remembered studying. I remembered Minho and I remembered getting shot in the shoulder and getting kissed. I didn't remember how these events were related though. Unless Minho got so fed up with math that he shot me and then we made out. I giggled. I wondered if they had given me any meds, because I felt a bit floatier than usual, and I wasn't as worried as I'd normally be that I was in a hospital.

I sat up, but that made my brain slosh against the inside of my skull painfully, so I settled for lying down propped up on pillows. I stared at the ceiling for an indeterminate amount of time, mind completely blank. As luck would have it, my staring was interrupted by a friendly looking man wearing professional looking clothes, who entered the room.

"Oh, good, you're awake," he said, walking over.

"Who are you?" I demanded, my words stretched weirdly.

"I'm your nurse, mister..." he looked down at the clipboard in his hands, "Newton,"

"A male nurse?" I asked. "High five!"

He raised an eyebrow at me and I realized I hadn't lifted my hand like I'd meant to.

"Follow your dreams," I told him.

"Thank you, Newton," he sighed. He must be used to working with loopy patients, "There's someone waiting to see you, may I let him in?"

"Sure thing, dude," I replied, stretching out the "u" in dude.

He exited the room and was shortly replaced with Minho.

"Minny!" I slurred. I loved this guy! Then I frowned. Even without drugs I usually managed to embarrass myself, but with these meds who knew what I was gonna say?

"Newt," he replied, sitting at my bedside "I'm glad you're awake,"

"Did you..." I trailed off, instead slowly lifting my hand and poking his lips then pointing at mine.

"Kiss you?" he clarified.

I nodded, but it made me feel dizzy.

"Yeah, sorry, I was so happy you were awake and..."

He stopped talking as I placed a finger to his lips and gave a sloppy "shhh". He slowly removed my hand and placed it back by my side where it belonged.

There was an awkward moment of silence.

I broke it, "Wanna do it again?"

"Jesus, Newt, what the hell did they give you?"


	20. Chapter 20

**Act 3 Scene 3**

The third time I woke, I was still in the hospital. The window showed a dark street, onto which the moon glowed softly. I was calm, until thoughts began to flow into my mind. Minho. What was happening with Minho? He kissed me, but why? Relief or love? And didn't he have a girlfriend? A hot cheating, hooker girlfriend, but still. I checked my bedside for my phone, hoping to clear this mess up, but then all thoughts of Minho flew from my mind. On my bedside table was a piece of paper detailing the cost of having a bullet removed and staying in a hospital for two days, and it wasn't a low number. As irony would have it, it was just a couple of dollars higher than my entire savings. My mind raced. This was normally something a kid's parents would just take care of, but...

Speak of the devil and he shall appear. A man in a denim jacket and beat up sneakers entered the room, strode over to my bedside and snatched the paper from my hand. My father, my "I've got a job that'll take a couple days" trucker, absent father. My "you're not gay, don't ever say that again", "you're a disappointment, Newt, man up" father.

"What are you here for?" I asked him, a headache starting up, "I thought you had a job out in Iowa,"

"You got shot, Newton, of course I'm here," he folded the bill and turned it over in his hands.

"Do you want some kind of medal or something? A 'World's Best Dad' mug?" I growled,

He took off his baseball cap, and ran his hands through his balding hair, ending with a sigh.

"A little gratitude would be nice. I did just drive all night,"

"And that's about all you've done in five years,"

He didn't try to deny it. When my mom died, he suddenly couldn't deal with me. So he left me alone while I spiraled into a depression over my mom's death. While I needed him. After my incident, we'd had a chance to grow close again, but then I came out and he wouldn't talk to me. He took more and more jobs further into the country, and I was left alone.

"You're my only son, Newt," he said, as if he was reading the script to some soap opera.

"When have you ever cared about that?"

I could see him getting more and more frustrated. I knew exactly how to get to him, and I wasn't pulling my punches. I had tried to make peace before, and I didn't care for it anymore.

He tried again, "You almost died, of course I'm going to be here for you,"

"Like when I almost died after mom did. When I jumped in a river, and broke my leg but sadly not my neck. How were you there for me then?"

"Newt, -"

"You weren't there," I was yelling now, "Because you were ashamed that your son - that he was weak enough to try to off himself instead of being a man and getting the fuck over it,"

"Newt!" he was getting angry now too.

"Damn right you were supposed to be here for me! You were supposed to support me and love me, and not tell me you were disappointed in me for who I was! I'm still fucking gay, Dad, even if you decide to come back into my life. And I still tried to kill myself, and sometimes I wish it had worked!"

I took a deep breath, but I was already crying. I swiped angrily at the tears. And then my dad did something totally unexpected - he hugged me.

I stiffened, but I was too much of a mess to do anything but crumple into his arms. I hadn't been hugged by a parent in almost five years and I had to say it felt pretty damn comforting.

"I'm sorry, Newt," he told me, "I've made mistakes, I know, but if I ever want to fix some of them, I have to start sometime,"

I wiped my eyes and let go of him, "I- I don't need you,"

"But I need you," he told me, getting to his feet. He gave me one last glance and walked out, tucking the bill into his pocket.

As soon as the door closed, I let myself cry again, but this time it didn't hurt quite as much.


	21. Chapter 21

**Act 3 Scene 4**

I got a couple more visits before my nurse let me leave. I couldn't remember what I had said to him, but the nurse was kind of awkward around me. Kind, though. I got some visits from Thomas, a blubbering mess who blamed himself for making me tell Minho the truth, and then a calm, composed best friend, who told me he had my back. My dad came back a couple times as well, between some shorter distance deliveries, to catch up, and though it would take some time, we were starting to repair our broken bonds. However, I didn't get a visit from the one person I desperately wanted to talk to: Minho.

My first day back from the hospital I texted him. The Glade, 6:00. It was the local park, nicknamed after the school, which in turn was named after the sisters Paige and Ava Glader, the town's founders. Though, I doubted that any of the jocks that regularly inhabited the park would know that. It was a popular hang-out, but I doubted anyone from school was going to pick on me right after I'd gotten shot. It had been all over the news. Also, after staring down a gun, I wasn't really threatened by Gally and the dudebros anymore.

I sat on the swing and kicked my legs back and forth half-heartedly. I still felt nauseous half the time from my concussion and I was a bit wobbly, but I felt a lot better than I had in a long time. Suddenly, two gentle hands on my back slowed the swing. I swiveled my head carefully, but the motion still made me feel sick. It was Minho.

"Take a seat," I offered. The empty swing slouched beside me, inviting. He sat.

"We need to talk," he said, "Though not in the cliche 'we need to talk' way. We just need to..."

"We are talking," I pointed out, kicking my legs to get the swing going again.

"No, I mean about us," he said, "When you were all loopy at the hospital-"

"You kissed me," I filled in.

"And I shouldn't have," he replied.

"Because of Ruth?"

"No, because I didn't even ask you. I didn't care if you felt that way about me, or that if you didn't you were too damn high to do anything about it."

"..."

"And I know I really shouldn't have, but in that moment, all I wanted was you. To be with you, to kiss you, just... You,"

I stared at my hands, rubbing them together to warm them up. I couldn't look at Minho, not after what he'd just said. I had doubts that this wasn't just another medicine-induced fever dream.

"What about your girlfriend?" I asked. It was just another piece of the puzzle that didn't fit.

"She's not."

"Not what?"

"We're not together. She's one of my friends, and when I told her that my parents were pressuring me to start dating, and that I wasn't ready to come out, she offered to cover for me. "

"..."

"But she's not my girlfriend. Not even close. It was just a happy lie for my parents and my friends, so I could put off telling the truth."

"..."

"But it's gone on long enough. I don't care what anyone thinks or does, if I'm with you."

I finally looked up. It wasn't fair to hide what I was feeling from Minho while he poured out his soul to me.

I opened my mouth to say something, but the words just wouldn't coalesce into anything I wanted to say. There was just so much I was feeling that I wasn't sure how to convey. Minho nodded, getting up.

"It's alright, you don't have to say anything."

"Min..."

"No. Just... I hope I'll see you tomorrow."

"I'm not in school this week. My concussion..."

"After school. There's going to be a dance. You are my partner, after all."

He walked away slowly, leaving me still sitting in the swing as the momentum got weaker and weaker. The swing came to a stop, as I dragged my heels in the sand. This felt like a crossroads, and I wasn't sure which path to take.


	22. Chapter 22

**Act 3 Scene 5**

_The scene is a crowded gymnasium. Teenagers populate the halfheartedly decorated gym, bubbling with excitement, and rushing to and fro. A girl cries, her mascara tracing dramatic lines on her face. A group of boys sit in a corner and mock the teens dancing, between longing glances. And one boy sits alone, not interested in the action around him, but in the ticking hands of his watch. _

"It's been an hour, Min," his friend says, "I don't think he's coming,"

"You don't have to stay with me at my pity party, Thomas, go dance,"

His friend looks torn, as a beautiful girl waves him onto the dance floor.

"Go dance with Theresa, it's fine,"

* * *

_A small blond adjusts his collar one final time, still unsure if he's actually going to go through with his plan. He's acted like he will, he's gotten dressed up. He's enjoyed watching his dad try not to cringe when he says he's going to a dance with a boy. He's almost thrown up out of nerves. Yet he still hasn't decided._

I didn't know what I was so scared of. Well, yes I did. I was scared that this was all some sort of sick joke. I was scared that it was all real and I was putting my heart in a place where it could easily be smashed to bits. I was scared of what people would whisper behind our backs if Minho and I danced. I was scared of having to put him through that.

Yet, I was still doing it. Still getting ready. I'd known all along that I was going. That was what love was. Fighting through the fear for the one you love. And the thing that scared me most of all was how ready I was to fight to be with Minho, how strongly I felt for him.

* * *

_The door of the gym opens and shuts quietly. The boy who enters is practically invisible, shrinking away from the crowd. Yet Minho sees him, across the crowded room, through the noise. They meet in the middle, and stand in silence, the rumble of dancing around them. Minho holds out a hand._

"May I have this dance?"

"Of course,"

**A/N That's all, folks! Thanks for all the encouragement and support, and I hope you've enjoyed the ride. This is the end of my little fic - (Of course, there is always the possibility of a sequel...). Thanks again for reading!**


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